Moss rolling
by crutch
Summary: Not gonna say too much because I'll scare people away with my awful summarizing. There's a protagonist, but he doesn't save the world- he's there when it all goes down though. Reviews are pretty nice and I'd appreciate them.
**_This is a story, I'm starting to write it, hopefully you enjoy reading it, review with all the hate you can muster and I'll try to work from it.
Much love._**

* * *

 _In every Poke Universe, there's always some kind of destined hero, you know the one. Whatever the story, or game, their purpose is always to turn up, usually once the main villain has been revealed, use their mastery of Pokemon to save the world, catch all the legendary Pokemon and batter all the other trainers along the way._

 _No-one ever asked if that's what the others wanted._

 _They're more than plot devices, they're men and women._

 _This story is dedicated to those fine men and women._

* * *

Moss wasn't destined for anything special. He didn't have any magical powers. In fact, that's what made him special- he was the probably the least prophecized protagonist to ever grace a story. At the moment, he was dashing towards the Pokemon Center, his overly long legs flailing behind him as he propelled himself onwards.

He slammed his Zigzagoon onto the inquiries desk, causing a spray of red mist to rain over the beleaguered nurse Joy picking at her nails behind the counter.

"Your Pokemon may be infected with Pokerus, did you know?" She croaked, still focusing all her attention on her milky cuticles.  
Moss stared at the crimson pool slowly widening around his pet and then back at the nurse.  
"It's not harmful, all we know is that Pokerus are tiny microorganisms that attach to a Pokemon and are said to encourage a strong and fast growth." She continued.  
The Nurse Joy finally looked up at Moss, and attempted a smile before pointing at the Pokemon healing machine, which currently had a very large sign on it saying 'OUT OF ORDER.' on it- she reached under the counter and produced some potions and assorted pills; she kept the pills for herself and nonchalantly sprayed the Pokemon in front of her with the potions before nodding to Moss and returning to her nails.

Moss cradled his Zigzagoon in his arm and made his way over to the glass table to try and collect his thoughts.

On the other side of a table, there was a young girl, maybe twelve, playing with her Dragonite. The tiny winged dragon fluttered desparately as it repeatedly headbutted the large punchbag she'd placed against the wall.  
"Again Dragonite! Soon we'll be strong enough to take on the Champion! Show that punchbag the meaning of streeeengthhh!" She cried.

Moss sat as far away from the prodigy as he could. He didn't mean to be a cynic, but unless he was very much mistaken, the current Champion of the region, Wallace used Ice type pokemon; which spelled trouble for little miss Aspirations over here. If there was anything that depressed him more than his own cynicism,it was seeing other people oblivious to it. He looked down at his own Pokemon with a stab at affection.  
"Wanna do some headbutts too?" He hazarded.  
Zigzagoon nodded.  
"Wanna headbutt the annoying little girl?"  
Zigzagoon nodded again.  
"Go on, make Daddy proud, buddy."

Zigzagoon returned a moment later, a regal air about it as it sauntered back towards its trainer:  
( _Lil bitch got fried, you all think you're bad? You feeling brave? Come at me if you're wearing your bigboy pants today- looking at you pixie-wings_ ) It nodded towards the Dragonite, who stiffened.  
"Good Boy!" Cooed Moss, ruffling his champion's zig-zag fur.

His name wasn't actually Moss, but a charming combination of his charming deep-seated personality flaws and his sharp, suspicious appearance meant not many people ever got to a stage of knowing him by anything other than Moss.  
Moss didn't really have personality flaws- people are just impatient with him. He thought as he flicked some rocks Zigzagoon had picked up along their travels at the girl at the other end of the table.  
He definitely had a suspicious, aggressive appearance, however; the tight fitted black jeans and drug-dealer esque incredibly oversized grey hoodie made sure of that.  
Moss pulled a cigarette out of his hoodie's single pocket and tried to throw it into his mouth like that Diantha person from like 90% of this year's films. He failed, but the dagger eyes he shot at the girl stopped her from laughing.  
"Smoke?" He inclined to Zigzagoon, who nodded and dipped its head to allow him to light the cigarette he placed in its mouth.

Feeling rather pleased with himself, managing to irritate almost everyone in the Pokemon Center without direct confrontation, which he generally shied away from- he was tall, but mainly just bone. Nice cheekbones though, he told himself. He turned his attention to the glowing display from the television set in the middle of the room, smoke billowing out his nostrils.

 _ **"-That's right Clyde, Team Aqua have struck again, and throw aside all misconceptions, these jumpsuit-clad goons are dangerous, and should be avoided at all costs. The attack was in Slateport, Clyde, where they reportedly took the good Captain Stern's ship; it's an odd move, considering literally all of their members have water pokemon-"  
"Quite true, Sara, you'd think they'd have more efficient means of travel across water before they decided to try and flood the land-"**_

Moss did some rapid backtracking. Team Aqua, the highly dangerous criminal organization, were in Slateport City. He, the not highly dangerous perfectly normal passerby, was also in Slateport city. Despite the constantly present numbness that seemed to surround him, he could still feel pain, plus he'd seen enough crappy police dramas to know that the role of civilian hostage wasn't really a glamorous one.  
Moss felt his breathing begin to rise uncontrollably- he closed his eyes and tried to ground himself.  
He'd started having panic attacks since he ran away from home, although he reckoned the real trigger had been his disastrous stand up career; what had he been thinking? Throwing weights at people and making jokes about responsibility made him sound like a suicide helpline.  
 _Close your eyes, Identify five different sounds in the room._ He thought, his mind flashing back to therapy sessions in a stuffy room as a child. Why did all therapists wear sandals? That was anxiety provoking enough by itself.  
 _The little girl's humming  
_ _The soft crackle of the Poke center's sound system as it hummed quietly.  
The breathy panting of Zigzagoon in his lap.  
The chirping of the Newscasters in the background.  
The jingle as the Poke Center's door opened.  
_He opened his eyes, and exhaled. He was going to join Team Aqua. Or pretend to at least.

The key to belonging is to look the part. Nobody really belongs anywhere, but provided you can pull off the act with a certain gusto nobody will question- it's a fine line between acting very enthusiastic about something and mocking it, and you have to tip toe along the line, like everybody else; and noone will question it.  
That was the plan at least.  
Moss strode with the illusion of confidence to catch up with a civilian walking towards a group of Aqua Grunts, despite the voices that circulated around his head telling him this was a very bad idea. The sea air always wreaked havoc with his sinuses, and he took a mighty sniff to prevent his nose leaking all over his new outfit. He tried to look as authoritative as he could as he approached the Grunts.  
"It's okay, he's with me." He said, gesticulating to the surprised Girl next to him.  
The grunts whirled around, but jumped back at the sight of what appeared to be a Team Aqua Admin.  
"What are you all staring at?" He barked at the group.  
"We were given orders to destroy the shipyard sir... from Archie." The largest of them stuttered.  
"Countermanded!" he barked, before pointing out to sea. "You, go search that rock, and you," He waved his hand at the remaining grunts, "Watch that patch of Sea, we're on the lookout for Kyogre. Watch it like a Fearow."  
He began to sweep away, the girl instinctively following; unsure what else to do. Moss stopped again, and wheeled back around to face the grunts.  
"I don't see you searching the rock."  
"But sir-"  
"I want it deep searched, you understand? Every crevasse."  
"Er-"  
"Get cracking." Moss practically skipped away, smiling to the girl who was now following him like a shadow.  
Zigzagoon looked her up and down too, and decided she wasn't a threat to his snuggles.

This might just work, Moss thought.


End file.
